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happy74827 · 9 months ago

Note

Can you do a Marty McFly x Reader, where the reader and him traveled back to 1955 together. Marty and the reader aren’t exactly together but they two idiots in love. But basically Lorraine doesn’t get the hint that these two are interested in each other so the reader is jealous but then some boy in 1955 flirts with the reader and Marty ends up jealous 😭. THANK YOU!!!!

Dance With Me

[Marty Mcfly x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite how rare it seems, don’t forget that jealously is often a two-way street.

WC: 1758

Category: Fluff

Oh my god… i’m so sorry this took so long. I’ve been so caught up. But, I finally finished it so hopefully you like it!! (this is probably my favorite Marty fic I’ve written so far tbh).

『••✎••』

It was stupid. You knew it was. The entire scenario was ridiculous, and you felt stupid for letting it bother you so much.

Yet, the entire day, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head. Even now, as the dance played on around you, you couldn’t keep the thought of how Lorraine Baines could be so oblivious.

Sure, she was with George… now. But before Marty fixed up the past, she was all over her son as if he were the best thing since sliced bread. It wasn’t even the fact that it was her son that was bothering you, although that certainly did play a part in it, no. It was the fact that it was Marty.

It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything, but you knew there was something. A spark, if you would, and it was a spark that made you want to pull him away from her and just tell him what was on your mind.

You weren't really sure when the infatuation had begun. It was as though a light had just flickered on one day, and suddenly, everything was different. Everything was Marty, your lazy lab partner.

Your eyes flickered to the man across the room. He was standing alone (for once) by the punch bowl, watching the dancers with a soft smile. Even now, Lorraine was still obvious to your connection. Though, it didn’t really matter since everything was fixed now. Her obsession moved on, and so should yours.

Still, your eyes drifted down to your shoes as your mind flashed back to the night before. You remembered the feeling of her fingers wrapped around his wrist and the way she pulled him closer to her, practically begging him to ask her to the dance. And he had, though only because it was the plan to begin with.

Your lips twisted down into a scowl, and you had half a mind to take her to the side and give her a piece of your mind. But why should you? What did it matter? It was over now, and there was nothing left to do but wait until the past was the past.

God, you couldn’t wait to leave.

You sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over your chest.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to see Doc alive, Doc, and not worry about this crap anymore. You just wanted to be home.

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The music seemed to swell around you, and you could hear the shuffle of feet as people danced around. It was almost overwhelming, and you wished you had a place to escape to.

When you opened your eyes, however, a face greeted yours, and a hand reached out toward you.

You blinked, looking up at the boy who was grinning brightly down at you.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his smile bright.

It shocked you. In 1985, you were never asked to dance unless it was by a friend in an attempt to make you feel better. And while the boy standing in front of you wasn’t exactly the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, he was trying.

Your gaze shifted across the room, looking at the others. George and Lorraine were dancing, his hand low on her waist. Your parents were also dancing, as well as most of the students. And then there was Marty, standing alone, watching his parents dance.

It really was just you caring, wasn't it?

Your gaze shifted back to the boy, who was still watching you expectantly.

A sigh fell from your lips, and a small smile curled on your lips. "I would love to."

His smile brightened as he took your hand, pulling you into the middle of the dance floor. You glanced at the people around you, seeing their confused expressions and the whispers.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but the boy was quick to spin you around.

His hands found your hips, and yours settled on his shoulders.

The music slowed, but the song wasn’t as familiar. Your feet followed the rhythm, and the boy led the way.

"So," he started, a smile curling on his lips, "you don’t seem like the rest of the girls."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "I get that a lot."

"Are you new to school?" he asked, his smile never wavering. “I’m sort of new too, just moved in the last year. I haven't seen you around."

"Oh, uh, yeah," you nodded, not wanting to explain the details of your situation. "I’m just visiting, though. Leaving tonight, actually."

"Tonight?" He looked surprised and maybe even a little disappointed.

"Yeah," you said. "But I think I'll be back soon."

"I hope you do," he smiled, and his voice sounded genuine. Now you wished that you could stay longer, but you knew that it wasn’t possible. "What was your name, by the way?"

“Can I bud in for the next dance?" a voice asked a familiar voice, a voice you would know anywhere.

Your body froze, the boy stopped, and the music halted.

Both of your gazes shifted over to see Marty standing in front of you with a small smile. One that held something more than just a friendly offer.

The boy glanced at you, his gaze questioning. Boldness was not his strong suit, and it wasn’t yours either, but you were a little less timid than he was.

"Yeah," you nodded, "of course."

Marty's grin brightened, and he quickly grabbed your hand, disregarding the “next dance” statement completely, forcing you to ditch the poor boy.

You felt a bit bad about the abrupt switch, but the feeling vanished when he pulled you against his chest, his hands on your hips, and yours around his neck.

"What was that about?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I was kind of in the middle of something."

"Yeah," he nodded, "But remember what Doc said to us? He said that we shouldn't change anything. We don't know how this could affect our future."

"Or affect his," you pointed out, but he shook his head.

"He’ll forget about it," Marty waved it off. “Trust me, the guy's got enough on his mind right now; what's one more thing?"

“Would you?” Your words were quiet, and you didn’t really think that he would hear them. But he did, and his gaze met yours.

"Would I what?"

"Would you forget about it? It seemed as though you couldn’t handle the fact that I wasn’t dancing with you," you explained, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips.

"No, I-" he sighed, shaking his head. "Doc said that we shouldn’t change anything. I’m just following the rules."

You rolled your eyes, a scoff falling from your lips. "Since when have you ever listened to rules?"

"Hey, I listen to rules!" he defended, but his tone was playful, and the smile on his face betrayed his words. “And you're changing the subject."

"Am I?" you smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "What subject would that be, McFly?"

His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer. Your eyes widened, and you could feel your heart beating rapidly.

"How quick you were to dance with me," he grinned, his voice quiet, but you could hear the teasing undertone. “instead of the boy you were with."

"I don’t know what you're talking about," you scoffed, looking away from him, but the grin was still playing on your lips.

"No? Is my mother still on your mind, then?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"That makes me sound creepy," you said, scrunching up your nose in distaste. “Do you always have to word things so weird?"

"Do you always have to avoid the question?"

You were silent for a moment, trying to find a good response. "Yes."

His eyes brightened, a smile lighting up his face. "You are, aren’t you? You're still jealous of my mother."

"No," you groaned, shaking your head. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry, Marty, but I'm not obsessed with you like she is. Or was, or whatever. She isn't obsessed anymore, is she?"

"Not really," he shrugged, but his grip was still firm around your waist. "She sees me like a brother now, I think.”

“How’d that happen?" you asked, thinking about the dramatic change of direction, but you noticed how his smile faltered for a moment, a distant look clouding his features.

"Let’s… not talk about it," he shook his head, the smile returning to his lips. Something about that ordeal told you it was better left unsaid, so you didn't push it any further.

"Okay," you nodded, smiling. "I'm sorry, though, I guess. For being weird and all."

"No," he shook his head, pulling you in so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. Your eyes widened, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his every movement and his closeness. His hands were warm against your skin, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your dress.

"Save the apologies for when we get out of this nightmare," he didn’t elaborate on his words, but the thought of seeing Doc alive again, as if nothing had ever happened, made the smile grow on your lips.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. Your hands moved from his shoulders, and your arms wrapped around his neck. He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

You could feel his breath fanning against your lips, and yours ghosted across his. Your heart was beating rapidly, and your palms began to sweat, but the feeling wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice. It was a reminder that you were there, dancing with the boy you loved.

And even though it was the 1950s, and neither of you would admit your feelings for one another, there was that awkward truth that lingered in the air. That spark, the one that pulled you together and ignited something that you were too afraid to admit.

You both were jealous of someone, a simple fact that would make the two of you laugh if only you both had the guts to admit it. But it was okay because this was the start.

You didn’t have to say anything. The music, the moment, was saying everything for you.

So you didn't say a word. Instead, you moved closer and let the jealousy fade along with the song.